Lyrics
Wha wadna be in love
Wiā bonny Maggy Lawder
A piper met her gaun to Fife,
And spierād what wasāt they caād her
Right scornfully she answerād him
Begone, you hallanshaker;
Jog on your gate, you bladderskate
My name is Maggie Lawder.
Maggy, quoth he, and by my bags,
Iām fidging fain to see you
Sit down by me, my bonny bird,
In troth I winna steer thee:
For Iām a piper to my trade,
My name is Rob the Ranter;
The lasses loup as they were daft
When I blaw up my chanter.
Piper, quoth Meg, hae you your bags,
Or is your drone in order?
If you be Rob, Iāve heard of you,
Live you upoā the border?
The lasses aā, baith far and near,
Have heard of Rob the Ranter;
Iāll shak my foot wiā right good will,
Gif youāll blaw up your chanter.
Then to his bags he flew with speed,
About the drone he twisted,
Meg up, and wallopād oāer the green,
For brawly couād she frisk it.
Weel done, quoth he; Play up, quoth she:
Weel bobād, quoth Rob the Ranter;
āTis worth my while to play indeed,
When I hae sic a dancer.
Weel hae you playād your part, quoth Meg,
Your cheeks are like the crimson;
Thereās nane in Scotland plays sae weel,
Since we lost Habbie Simpson.
Iāve livād in Fife, baith maid and wife,
These ten years and a quarter;
Gin you should come to Enster fair,
Spier ye for Maggy Lawder.
Wiā bonny Maggy Lawder
A piper met her gaun to Fife,
And spierād what wasāt they caād her
Right scornfully she answerād him
Begone, you hallanshaker;
Jog on your gate, you bladderskate
My name is Maggie Lawder.
Maggy, quoth he, and by my bags,
Iām fidging fain to see you
Sit down by me, my bonny bird,
In troth I winna steer thee:
For Iām a piper to my trade,
My name is Rob the Ranter;
The lasses loup as they were daft
When I blaw up my chanter.
Piper, quoth Meg, hae you your bags,
Or is your drone in order?
If you be Rob, Iāve heard of you,
Live you upoā the border?
The lasses aā, baith far and near,
Have heard of Rob the Ranter;
Iāll shak my foot wiā right good will,
Gif youāll blaw up your chanter.
Then to his bags he flew with speed,
About the drone he twisted,
Meg up, and wallopād oāer the green,
For brawly couād she frisk it.
Weel done, quoth he; Play up, quoth she:
Weel bobād, quoth Rob the Ranter;
āTis worth my while to play indeed,
When I hae sic a dancer.
Weel hae you playād your part, quoth Meg,
Your cheeks are like the crimson;
Thereās nane in Scotland plays sae weel,
Since we lost Habbie Simpson.
Iāve livād in Fife, baith maid and wife,
These ten years and a quarter;
Gin you should come to Enster fair,
Spier ye for Maggy Lawder.